Wednesday, September 16, 2015

The Beautiful People

Brittany needed another $100 for the Louis Vuitton handbag she had to have. Every credit card was over its limit and she had exhausted her other usual avenues for borrowed money, except Lilith, her sister.

Lilith had a fat savings account, but despised what she referred to as "the beautiful people". She wouldn't allow anyone to use a dime of her money, not even a dime that earned interest, towards beauty propaganda. And as far as Lilith was concerned, Louis Vuitton was propaganda.

The worms will live in every host. It's hard to pick which one they eat the mostThe Beautiful People (source).

Brittany did not understand Lilith. Lilith was beautiful, despite the thick-rimmed glasses that overwhelmed her otherwise lovely features, or the matted hair she never brushed, or her refusal to wear deodorant, apply cosmetics, or wear figure-flatting clothing that emphasized her lithe frame rather than hide it under bulky cable knit.

Perhaps Brittany wasn’t as smart as her sister, but it seemed to her Lilith's contempt for beautiful people was like a wealthy person's contempt for wealth. Don't lecture the poor money can't buy you happiness if you've never been starving, and don't tell the ugly beauty can't bring you popularity if you've never been marginalized by ugliness.

What cruel twist of fate, thought Brittany, was this? She should have Lilith's beauty. She should be the one with all the buckets and barrels of disposable income. She should possess Lilith's ingenuity and shrewd business sense. It was all wasted on Lilith! Oh the things Brittany would do if she was Lilith!

"Of course you don't understand anything! And you could never be me," Lilith suddenly shot out, interrupting Brittany's bitter ruminations. It was as if Lilith could read her mind.

"You're nothing but a slave," Lilith continued, "who doesn't know the strength of her weakness. You support a master and don't realize you're doing it...with your expensive fashion you can’t afford."

Brittany felt mildly insulted even though she had no idea what Lilith was talking about or if she should be insulted. Lilith's insinuations and subtleties were always so confusing and exhausting to Brittany. Normally at times like this she would simply tune her sister out or walk away, but she really, really wanted that hand bag. Brittany would grovel, if necessary.

Lilith picked up on Brittany's desperation and in a rare act of seeming compromise offered, "I'll tell you what, if you pick all the blackberries in my yard and do the canning, I'll give you the money for your meaningless...trinket."

“That sounds like a lot of work," Brittany complained, "and I don't know how to make jam!"

"That’s fine," Lilith replied as she thrust a recycled ice-cream bucket towards Brittany. "I'll oversee everything you do. If you want the purse bad enough, you’ll do what I say — you’ll do the work."

Brittany hesitated — some part of her feeling like she was making a pact with the devil, but that was silly.